47 / by Frank J. Viscomi
Chris reached the hotel and casually walked through the lobby to the elevator. He noticed that there was a new man behind the desk now. Chris just nodded to him as he pressed the button to go up. The humming vibrations and soft lights of the elevator had a numbing effect. The elevator doors opened. Chris walked out and turned to walk down the hallway to his room.
As he unlocked his door, he thought that the evening in the city was quite different than what he had expected, in fact pleasurable. Then he thought again of the Jamaican and the feeling he had as he walked back to the hotel. While getting ready for bed, Chris thought that perhaps the strange feelings during the evening where just a result of being tired, he finished brushing his teeth, set the alarm, and jumped under the covers. Almost the instance his head hit the pillow, Chris was asleep.
The soft glow of the city lights shone through the window, highlighting the room’s interior, casting shadows over the walls. The mood was reminiscent of a 1940’s style, black and white Mickey Spillane movie. Chris’ darkened dream world was slowly becoming illuminated by glowing white light, diffused throughout the room, and as its intensity grew, he became keenly aware of his surroundings.
Sitting in a chair in the middle of a circular room, Chris scanned the rows of Corinthian columns forming the perimeter of the circle. Through the space between two of the columns appeared an angel, at least that’s how Chris perceived the being. As the being approached, Chris saw that it was a woman dressed in a long flowing white robe, covering her completely. He could see her face, which was pale, but not in a sickly manner, her long platinum hair floated in the air as though a constant breeze was blowing over her. The angelic figure seemed to float several inches above the floor as she moved in closer to Chris.
Now standing directly in front of him, the woman raised her arm and reached out with her hand. Taking her hand, Chris stood up from the chair and ‘floated’ across the floor with the woman. The columnar room dissolved around them and was slowly replaced with a long grey corridor that materialized in front of them. The woman was now behind Chris. She placed her right hand onto his right shoulder, and with her outstretched left arm, pointed towards an amber colored light at the end of the corridor.
With no spoken words, Chris could ‘hear’ the woman’s thoughts in his mind, “There!”. But Chris did not understand. He saw an amber light glowing with a pulsating rhythm at the end of the corridor. In his mind he could hear the woman say, “You”. Then in a moment, the glowing amber light began to fade. The corridor dissolved as the columns in the circular room had. The intensity of the lighted room began to dissipate and Chris’ darkened dream world was once again slowly returning him to a peaceful state of rest…”
Based on an actual Out of Body Experience of author Frank J. Viscomi, 47 is a self-published story of Chris, a recent college graduate, who soon realizes that life in the real world doesn’t match up to all his expectations. As things begin to go down hill, Chris turns to meditation hoping to find peace and the strength to accept what the world had dealt him. What he finds instead is a world of unearthly forces that begin to take over his very being. Dreams no longer represent the peaceful solitude so eagerly awaiting our nightly rest, but become the visions of what the future holds.
During his dream state, Chris is exposed to interlocking images and events which form an elaborate puzzle relating the number ‘47’ and the real world. Chris’ encounters with an unknown presence soon evolve into a predestined fate that is magically orchestrated into a journey to uncover the meaning behind ‘47’ and a mysterious symbol he sees while in the dream state. We have all experienced that state of consciousness that lies between the dream world and the waking world. It is at this level that we find it difficult to tell the difference. Perhaps as we journey through these levels of consciousness and solve their riddle, our minds open the doors to yet another level.
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Andy Quinn was a typical, yet overachieving teenager in 2105 Maine. Raised by her father and growing up with a twin, she played sports, loved the ocean, excelled in her studies, and was eager to go away to college. Her love of sports made her physically strong and her disinterest in her appearance made her more comfortable being with the boys than tending to her hair or clothing.
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